


Five Times Elim Walked in on Julian and Kelas

by NB_Cecil



Series: Doctors and Lizards [31]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: 5 Things, A Stitch in Time - Andrew Robinson, Book: Enigma Tales (Star Trek), Canon Disabled Character, Castellan Garak, Doctors and Lizards OT3, Domestic Fluff, Dorks, Dorky Dorky Dork Dorks, Fluff, Garak’s Retirement, I Love These Three Sooooo Much, M/M, Multi, Non-Chronological, OT3, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Post-Canon Cardassia, The Crimson Shadow - Una McCormack, adorkable dorks, short scenes, toothrotting fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 11:18:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19294675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NB_Cecil/pseuds/NB_Cecil
Summary: Five scenes set during and after Garak’s Castellanship in which our adorable lizards and doctors behave like dorks.Indulge me; youknowI love domestic fluff.





	Five Times Elim Walked in on Julian and Kelas

One.

“Chintz.” Julian waved the padd displaying an image of garish blue floral-patterned curtains excitedly, “Look, these would be perfect in the bedroom.”

Kelas, seated opposite him in the Federation-style diner booth, looked up from the remains of the knickerbocker glory they were sharing. He licked his spoon. “Elim would _hate_ it,” He observed.

“Exactly!” Julian grinned wickedly.

A slow smile spread over Kelas’ face. “Pass me that please,” He requested, holding his hand out for the padd. Julian handed it over. “What was that Standard word you used...? _Kutsch_? _Katsch_...?”

“ _Kitsch_ ,” Julian supplied.

“Mmm, that’s the one... _Kitsch Terran décor_ ,” Kelas muttered as he typed.

Julian scooped fruit out of the bottom of the glass with his spoon while Kelas browsed through the images. 

“Ah, look at this!” Kelas brandished the padd triumphantly. He paused, frowning at the unfamiliar Standard text. “ _Fl-ock wall-pay-pur_ ,” He pronounced slowly with a thick accent, “The perfect companion for those curtains.”

Julian’s grin widened. “And chintz can be used to upholster furniture too.”

 

Elim held up a hand, signalling his security detail to stop as they neared the back corner booth. “What’s _chintz_?” He asked out of the corner of his mouth.

“Oh Sir,” The young officer chuckled, “You won’t like it.”

“Hello dears,” Elim greeted his partners, stepping toward the booth.

“Elim!” Kelas beamed, “We were just discussing a change of décor in your private residence.”

“Why would I redecorate?” Elim asked, frowning suspiciously as he slid into the banquette seat beside Julian.

“It might be nice to freshen the place up before the end of your Castellanship next month,” Julian replied, trying and failing to hide a smirk.

“It needs to be homely if we’re going to live there,” Kelas elaborated. “Would you like to see our favourites?”

Julian let out a small squeak, suppressing a giggle, as Kelas handed the padd over. The two doctors watched intently as the Castellan flicked through the images, eyes widening in horror.

“For the bedroom,” Julian deadpanned.

“ _No!_ ” Elim exclaimed, eyes flicking between the pair in an attempt to read his companions’ expressions. “You two will have to live somewhere else.”

A well-aimed kick from Kelas under the table broke Julian’s mask of composure and he guffawed loudly. “Your _face_ , Garak!” He gasped between giggles.

 

Two.

“Hmmk d’mmf fmmk fmm’ll mayf unnt?”

Julian spat toothpaste into the sink and looked at Kelas quizzically.

Kelas took the toothbrush out of his mouth. “What do you think she’ll name it?” He repeated.

“Well,” The Human pondered, rinsing his toothbrush under the tap, “‘Julian’ would be the obvious choice.”

“You’re full of yourself,” Kelas retorted. 

“So? It’s an excellent name. Served me well.”

“No, she’ll call it something Cardassian.” 

“What, like ‘Kelas’?”

“Probably not,” Kelas replied, dropping his toothbrush into the chipped mug on the back of the sink and reaching for a bottle hair oil, “But that’s more likely than ‘Julian’.”

The bathroom door slid open and Elim entered. “What’s this?” He asked.

“Baby names,” Julian replied. “While you were discussing the finer points of trade with the Klingon diplomats at dinner, Kelas and I were talking to Arati. She’s pregnant.”

“Is she now?” Elim lent in to examine Julian’s face as he spoke. “She’ll name it ‘Elim’.” He nodded confidently and brushed a finger along a patch of dry skin on the Human’s cheek. “You need to moisturise, dear.”

 

Three.

“ _...But it wouldn’t be make-believe if you believed in me_ ,” Julian sang tunelessly, bobbing his head in time with the computer playback as he chopped vegetables for the _halant_.

“How’s that _krintar_ coming along?” Kelas asked, stirring a pot of bubbling stock on the stovetop.

“Nearly there,” Julian broke off his singing to reply. He chopped the last root and pushed the pieces into a neat pile with the side of his knife. “Done,” He declared.

Kelas bustled over to the lower counter where Julian was working. He dropped a kiss on the human’s forehead.

“Shall I make the bread next?” Julian smiled up at him.

“You’re the best at it.”

“That’s debatable,” Julian made a half-hearted attempt at modesty. “But first...” He grinned, manoeuvred his hoverchair around and pulled Kelas into his lap, placing a hand on the back of the Cardassian’s head and pressing their foreheads together.

 

The aroma of baking bread and the crooning of Vic Fontaine greeted Elim as he opened the front door. Finding the kitchen empty with the stew bubbling away on a low heat, he made for the bedroom. Catching the low murmur of voices and a huff of laughter from within, he paused with a hand on the door handle and smiled to himself, a wave of compersion overcoming him. He drew a slightly shaky breath and announced himself as he pushed the door open.

“Good evening, dears. It’s me.”

 

Four.

Julian held his hand up in front of his face, watching the _onyx_ beetle crawl along his index finger, its wing casing glinting with an iridescent sheen in the low afternoon sun. 

“I walked six meters this morning,” He announced.

“Great job!” Kelas, seated on a nearby bench, enthused. “That’s more than yesterday.”

“Yes, but my legs are killing me now,” Julian replied.

The beetle, having reached the Human’s fingertip, opened its wings and flitted off across the courtyard garden, where the high walls of the Castellan’s residence shielded it from the buffeting wind whipping up dust over the city outside.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Kelas said.

“No pain, no gain, eh?” Julian shrugged and manoeuvred his hoverchair so that he was half-facing the Cardassian. “Listen, I’ve been meaning to ask...” He began, before trailing off, eyes turned down to cover his awkwardness at broaching the subject.

“Go on,” Kelas prompted, placing a reassuring hand on the Human’s knee.

“Well, er,” Julian faltered, colour rising in his cheeks. “I wanted to check if you’re ok?” He raised his gaze to the other man’s face. “Since Garak and I resumed our relationship.”

Kelas gave his friend’s knee a gentle squeeze. “I meant what I said when I gave you my blessing, Julian.” 

“Good. Because if you change your mind—.”

“I don’t want a veto on who Elim dates,” Kelas reassured him, “And I happen to be rather fond of you.”

“I’m quite fond of you too actually.” Julian grinned broadly.

The pair looked up at the sound of footsteps approaching from across the courtyard.

“Why are my ears burning?” Elim asked, stepping out of the shadow of an _ithian_ tree, a smirk playing on his face. 

 

Five.

Kelas pulled the ornate, thickly padded shirt over his head and wriggled his shoulders disagreeably. “It’s too constricting,” He complained.

“You’re telling me?” Julian grumbled, pulling at the neckline of his own shirt. “Why does Cardassian formal wear require so many _layers_?”

“This is excessive even by Cardassian standards,” Kelas replied, “But you know Elim.” He shrugged.

“We never should have let him choose our outfits.”

“Yes, that was a mistake,” Kelas nodded, tucking the hem of his jacket into a wide belt.

“Are you two ready?” Elim, who had been dressed and waiting for the last half-hour, called from beyond the bedroom door. “The skimmer will be here any minute.”

“Nearly,” Kelas shouted back.

“Would you mind?” Julian held out an arm, cuff dangling loose at his wrist. 

Kelas fastened the buttons and took the opportunity to plant a kiss on the Human’s cheek. 

“Thanks.” Julian returned the kiss and looked the other man up-and-down approvingly. “You scrub up nicely,” He observed.

Kelas took a step back to admire his partner. “As do you,” He grinned.

Julian picked up a pair of patent black Chelsea boots and examined his distorted face reflected in their surface. He considered his options for a moment before shoving them under the bed and reaching for a pair of scuffed leather sandals. “Do you think Elim will notice?” He asked as he pulled them on.

Kelas smirked and pushed his his foot into his own uncomfortable shoe, wincing at the pressure on his toes. “You might get away with it if we don’t point them out.”

“Skimmer’s here,” Elim announced, striding into the room.

Kelas grabbed his favourite tatty cardigan from a hook on the back of the door.

“Do you have to—?” Elim began.

“Yes, he does.” Julian cut him off.

Elim puffed out his cheeks in a sigh of resignation. “Just go,” He admonished, shooing them through the door.

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies for not posting anything for a while. I’ve been ill, busy with work, knitting, generally really goddam tired, and I started a Trek RP account on twitter (@ishka_moogie), which is lots of fun and eating up my time and attention.


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